


Let Me In

by garylovesjohn



Category: Door in the Woods (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Anal destruction, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Come Inflation, Corpses, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Ero Guro, First Time, Gross, Large Cock, Loss of Virginity, Lovecraftian, M/M, Mind Break, Necrophilia, Omorashi, Painful Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Purple Prose, Ruined Holes, Self-Indulgent, Size Difference, Suicide mention, Survival Horror, Temperature Play, Teratophilia, Urination, Vampire Bites, Vampire Sex, Vampire Turning, Vampires, Weirdness, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26162605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garylovesjohn/pseuds/garylovesjohn
Summary: An unfortunate detective gets caught by a stalker in the night.
Relationships: Vampire (Door in the Woods)/Detective (Door in the Woods)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	Let Me In

**Author's Note:**

> Please mind the tags. Nobody is forcing you to read.
> 
> The main character is neither named nor described.  
> Also, the vampire is not sexy. Unless a half-rotten corpse is your definition of sexy. ;)

"Let me in…" the vampire hissed in a raspy, unearthly breath. Walking about before the broken window, gnarled claws scratching at their dusty surface. Taunting, lipless smile, baring bloodied, crooked fangs. Glowing red gaze fixated upon its victim cowering within the abandoned house.

The detective cussed under his breath. Trapped like a rat in the middle of this accursed town. He was cold, he was parched, he couldn't go on much longer. He knew he wouldn't last the night if he remained in there. Unfortunately, going back out through the door he had just come in would be suicide. The creature outside did not seem keen on relinquishing this chance at a fresh meal.

He eyed his revolver briefly, considering his options. He had one bullet. Not enough to dispatch the monster. Only a simple, clean way to end his suffering.

But he wasn't about to give up just yet.

Shaky legs took him through the rooms, barely seeing anything in the darkness. He threaded as lightly as possible, hoping that the bloodsucker outside would go away, seeking easier prey.

Perusing cupboards and pantries, the detective was disappointed to find nothing of interest. But, in his search, he happened upon a backdoor leading to the garden. He could not see very far into the night, but part of the fence was flattened to the ground. He could abscond into the neighbouring house, hoping the place would be safer.

Perhaps he could even find a puddle to drink from on his way there.

But all this was provided that the creature did not catch him. He knew it couldn't come into a place uninvited, but he also knew how fast these things moved once it got dark outside.

And dark it was. The risk of walking out and not being able to see the monster coming for his throat was quite high. If only he had something to throw. Something to either stun his attacker or make noise to divert attention away from himself.

It was hopeless.

Either he dies in this house or dies trying to get to the other house.

Or maybe he makes it. Maybe the long gone neighbours still have food and water lying around. Maybe even ammunition. What a glorious find that would be.

He knew this was merely postponing the inevitable, but it was worth a try.

His mouth was dry, his stomach tied into a firm knot. Every bone in his body ached. Yes, truly, better off dying torn apart halfway between two houses than to slowly die of thirst while waiting for morning to come.

Carefully, with as little noise as possible, the detective unlocked the door to the back porch. He slipped out into the cool, damp air of the night. The unnatural feel of the darkness filled him with dread.

Come on, it's only a few metres, he told himself. He readied his last lockpick, hoping to enter unnoticed. He knew there weren't only vampires stalking the streets at this hour.

With utmost prudence, he walked the distance between the two safe havens, stepping over the fallen boards, proud to have managed to make minimal noise.

"I can hear you breathe." came the voice again, a strange mix of breathy gurgles, lisped from a mangled mouth.

The detective's heart skipped a beat in utter terror. He frantically gazed around, eyes tear-brimmed and wide with fear.

Nothing.

He knew the monster could smell him long before it actually saw him. Perhaps it didn't know yet where he was precisely.

Only a couple metres to the neighbour's door.

He could make it.

His legs felt like jelly but nevertheless carried him to his destination.

There he took a knee before the lock and began picking it. He mentally talked himself into calm, knowing it would take much longer if he actually tried to go fast.

From the corner of his eyes, he thought he saw something move inside the house. He heard shuffling about, although he couldn't be certain. The pounding of his own heart was so loud within his ears, it deafened everything around him.

Come on, come on, he mentally tried to will the door to unlock faster. His trembling, sweaty fingers unable to perform the delicate, precise moves required of them.

The smell of blood and rot began to waft around him. He prayed this was because of a dead body inside the home he was attempting to break in, but deep down he knew it wasn't.

Again, something moved inside, and this time he was certain he had seen it. A cold spark of utter revulsion shot down his spine, like he had just been struck by lightning, realizing what he had just seen, but wishing not to believe it.

For a fraction of a second, he was paralyzed by the brief glimpse he had caught of what awaited him inside and dropped the lockpick to the hard pavement at his feet.

A single clarion in the dead silence of the night. A portent of his doom.

Before he could even mentally register his mistake, he felt a cold hard grasp wrap around one of his ankles and drag him away from the house of lurking horrors.

In the blink of an eye, he was back in the previous backyard, hidden away in a corner of the wooden fence.

Reeling from the shock, he tried to reach for his revolver. Better off dead than to let whatever was about to happen happen.

Unfortunately, he was pinned down to the ground so he wouldn't shuffle too much. Both arms painfully twisted behind his back and held firmly in a single, ice-cold and clawed hand. He didn't have much time to struggle before he felt fangs sinking into his neck.

He grunted in agony at the searing pain, feeling hot blood gushing forth from his opened jugular. The vampire's cold mouth on his wound. Its disgusting, dripping tongue lapping at his torn flesh. The noises it made. Excited pants, eager slurps, moans of delight.

It made him nauseous.

His head spun. Vertigo gained him. He couldn't die like this. What a horrible way to go. He did his best to free himself from the monster's grip, but he was rapidly losing strength.

He could only pray for a swift death. But as he felt the gangrel creature, no doubt invigorated by its meal, begin to lazily hump him, growing hard against his tailbone, his heart sank.

Adrenaline kicked some strength back into his body and he thrashed around underneath the vampire's weight. He had to end it now.

Luck truly wasn't on his side, all he managed to do was further arouse the monster by inadvertently grinding back against its pressing need. His clothes were shredded off of his body, leaving him bared in the cold, dewy grass.

He realized how horrible it would be when his assailant tied a scrap of rag around his wound.

"I want you to stay alive for me…" murmured the vampire, already drooling, so eager to further defile its warm and delightful victim.

The detective tried to scream. Perhaps, if he was loud enough, he could lure whatever was inside the next door over to quickly end him. An icy, stinking palm shut him up swiftly as the creature shushed him between bared fangs.

He kept trying to call out to no avail. His throat ached, his thoughts were swimming in a murky sea of daze.

Had his stomach not been empty, he would have disgorged when he felt the abhorrent, twisted shaft between his parted ass cheeks. Such size would put a horse to shame. It felt as repulsive and monstrous as the abomination who sought to rape him into submission.

It dry-humped his unwilling hole for a bit, precome barely making the glide easier.

The first attempt at penetration was unsuccessful. So was the second.

The detective wailed, crying and grunting, both in rage and fear. Every press against his closed, virgin sphincter hurt like fire. The pushes were impatient, erratic, yet strong. He shook his head in terror, no way that this thing would ever fit inside of him. He had never had sex with a man before, much less with a monster.

The inhuman shaft, distorted by bulging veins engorged full of cursed blood, bent from the resistance, vainly attempting to break into that soft, living hotness.

His breath hitched in utter shock and agony when he felt the bulbous, flared glans poke ever so slightly within. His body was abandoning itself to the intruder. Slowly, but surely. More insistent shoves resulted in the eldritch erection making its way further within.

It was torture. He knew he was split open. His blood the only thing helping lubricate the forceful advance of the monstrous phallus spearing his poor guts. Inch by inch, it spread his insides to their breaking point.

Shoves and churns and twists and humps. The vampire did everything it took to bury itself balls-deep in that delightful, snug fit. The engulfing warmth of one of the rare living beings around.

The detective nearly fainted under the immense strain. He felt it bulging in his stomach. It followed the coils of his intestines, bending halfway in, longer and thicker than his forearm. The malformed head larger than his fist. It rubbed spots that should have been left untouched. It took so much space inside that, without even realizing, he was pissing himself from the unyielding pressure in his abdomen.

His ruined ass burned as much as the tear in his neck. Both throbbed in unison, nerves aflame in torturous throes.

Blind to its victim's suffering, the vampire began to pound, craving more of that blessed feeling. The mortal blood it had just ingested sending its mangled body into a frenzy of lust. It used all of its renewed strength to properly cunt that lovely ass underneath its bony, decomposing hips.

Eyes rolling in their socket, the detective coughed with every powerful thrust. Too strong, too fast. He was reeling, gritting his teeth, holding on for dear life. He wished he could simply pass out from bloodloss, but no such mercy came. He felt cold and bereft of hope. Brought to ruin in the most humiliating fashion.

He should have killed himself the moment he had entered that damned house.

He felt how every penetration required an effort on his assailant's part. A more forceful push to fully embed itself within his deeper recesses. Yet every successful hilt further opened his tight second hole and straightened his guts into a proper fuck canal.

It wasn't just his ass that was changing.

If the detective could have seen his own face, he would have been horrified to witness black veins snaking their way from the wound on his neck, covering his right cheek, all the way up to his reddening eye. He moved his tongue around his mouth and a couple of his teeth came loose, replaced by pointy, twisted ones growing beneath.

Worse than death, he was turning into one of them.

The smell of his own blood, once so repulsive, was becoming more and more intoxicating.

The pain of the assault fading into pleasure, still unwanted, but not unwelcomed.

He began moving in unison with his attacker. Hesitantly at first, but the amazing feeling when that odd, bent dick hit him deeper within was too sweet to resist. The wet squelches, the dripping over his taint, the stench of both the undead and himself. It was a mess of sounds and scents which should have been repulsive, but were inviting.

He was too weak to fight.

He no longer wanted to.

All he craved was to abandon himself to the vampire assaulting him. To let his poor insides, screaming in agony, be thoroughly reorganized. He wanted more. He wanted it deeper. Harder. Painfully so.

He realized that the monster had let go of his arms at some point because he was now holding his own ass spread wide, craving deeper strokes, giving the creature a debauched display of his ruined, bloodied hole.

Grab your gun.

The thought formed into his mind yet dissolved instantly as he shuddered under the vertiginous height of a powerful anal orgasm. His body quaked rhythmically. He wasn't even hard, yet his little prick, shrunken by the low temperature, dribbled white in the piss-soaked grass below.

It felt too good. Unlike anything he had ever experienced before. His fear and suffering slowly ebbing away as his mind came undone.

He was given no time to recover, his fulfillment only spurred the vampire on, pounding him so hard he felt like his pelvic bones would shatter.

The clenching of his body around the intrusion as he climaxed got the monster to peak as well. Such a treat to behold its victim enjoy their own defilement.

The detective gasped to feel his guts filling with cold, dead come. A torrent of it, further swelling his intestines. He could feel it travelling upward, going against every natural reflex of his digestive tract, and pooling within his empty stomach. His first meal of the day, rotting semen injected backward. Everything about this was wrong.

Yet he relished it.

He could taste it at the back of his throat. Revolting and yet intoxicating. Had he not been paralyzed by pleasure, he would have knelt to deepthroat that gargantuan dick and savour its delights. He was still parched. Not so much for water anymore.

He wanted come.

He wanted blood.

He had a delirious smile on his face when he felt the vampire discard the drenched rag around his neck and go for a second drink. This time taking a big chunk out of his flesh.

He barely felt it. Only aware that it was happening, but uncaring about the fact. If not a bit jealous. He turned around, shaft still perfectly lodged within his plundered innards, plugging the vile meal within, and embraced his unlikely lover.

As if by instinct, he bit the neck of the vampire with his newly acquired fangs. The pungent, black blood acrid upon his tongue. Its taste so alien compared to his own. A strange, thick black syrup, cold and fermented. But barely had he taken a sip that he fell limp, boneless, hit by a high so tremendous that the whole world spun around him.

His nerves came alive, hypersensitive, receptive to the slightest touch. He could feel every gruesome detail of his partner's anatomy inside of him. Spider-like fingers trailing his feverish body, worshipping his chiselled shapes, covered in scrapes and bruises. Firms squeezes to his pectorals. Playful teasing of his erect nipples.

He felt like he might come again merely from being touched. His entire being was erogenous and craved to be adored.

He stared, awed and amorous, as the creature continued to feast while lazily fucking his wrecked ass. Utterly slack and destroyed, never meant for anything other than taking monster cocks from now on. A few squirts of slimy, lukewarm come managed to escape, but most of it had already settled in too deep to descend. Leaving his entire abdomen round with a pressure worse than if he had overeaten. He was bloated, unable to find relief, so weak and heavy he wouldn't be able to crawl away even if he wanted to.

Part of his face got eaten, bite by bite, tearing away at the soft bits. Lips, nose, cheeks. He gradually became as mangled as the vampire itself. Every wound a little orgasm. The feeling of fangs tearing at his skin like a knife through butter on a hot summer day was one of pure pleasure. He wanted nothing more than to be entirely consumed until there was nothing left.

Slowly, the dreadful pall of the night was pulled away by a dim, grey dawn. Pale light, shy and devoid of any reassuring warmth, filtering through the silent pine trees, further revealing the creature's features.

A face destroyed yet familiar. Sunken, crimson eyes, smeared with bloody tears from all the vessels bursting within. Dead skin, waxy, greenish blue, marred with dark veins. Wispy strands of hair, most of it having fallen out. Lips and nose gnawed away by hungry, fanged kisses.

The detective couldn't shake this sinking feeling welling from deep within.

Eyes wide in utter dismay, his last shred of sanity snapped at the realization that he was staring at himself.

**Author's Note:**

> [Door in the Woods](https://store.steampowered.com/app/1189230/Door_in_the_Woods/) is a great, albeit very difficult, game if you like good Lovecraftian spooks and dying a whole lot. And also if, like me, your brain goes into kinky monsters territory whenever most of the events are left up to your imagination.


End file.
